Most Interesting
by eleew
Summary: Mr. Sharp is unavailable to bring a certain wildcount his morning rations. Not very romantic, just some flirting, relationship development, and a certain hyperactive Tasmanian tiger. One-shot. Special appearance by Newkirk.


**I'm behind in this series- just started _Goliath_, so my apologies for inconsistencies with the books. This is purely hypothetical. And please, if anyone is kind enough to review, refrain from including spoilers!**

**I think I may have stolen the last line from Julia456. I don't have time to reread all her wonderful stories, but if someone does and wants to inform me that I have unwittingly stolen her words, I will happily change it.**

**This occurs around the middle of _Behemoth_, after Deryn's secret mission went awry and the _Leviathan_ left Istanbul.**

Dr. Barlow strolled along the corridor with leisure, the sound of her boots upon the floor echoing through the hallway with each footfall.

Contrarily, Tazza's steps were all but silent. His soft paws on the _Leviathan's_ fabricated floor generated barely a whisper. He strode at Dr. Barlow's side, his nose twitching, catching every whiff of every creature, Clanker, Darwinist, and atom of hydrogen that was part of the great airship's ecosystem.

Tazza paused, snout airborne. He'd caught a familiar scent. He bounded ahead of his mistress and pawed at a closed door.

"Cease that, Tazza," Dr. Barlow commanded. "I am eager to see our friend as well, but we mustn't behave as savages in our excitement," She met Tazza at the door and patted him on the head. "Did anything spill, Mr. Newkirk?" Dr. Barlow asked, directing her attention toward the midshipman.

"No, ma'am," Newkirk spoke calmly, though there were beads of perspiration on his forehead. "Good," Dr. Barlow accepted the middy's reply, but her eyes scrutinized the tray of food for anything out of its proper container. "Come, then. Count Volger must be famished.

The lady boffin grasped the door handle, twisted it, and stepped into Count Volger's room. It couldn't be called a suite, but it was certainly finer sleeping quarters than the servicemen's crude barracks.

Count Volger was sitting at his desk with perfect posture, studying a map. "You are tardy, _Mr_. Sharp," the Count drawled, keeping his eyes on the paper before him.

"I must apologize, Count. Midshipman Sharp will not be joining you for breakfast today." Dr. Barlow articulated every word precisely.

"Doctor!" Volger stumbled out of his chair, limiting his shock to the widening of his eyes. "It is I who must apologize," the Count bowed, his long, hooked nose appearing to sweep the floor of his cabin. "I was not expecting the pleasure of your company."

Dr. Barlow raised an eyebrow. "Pleasure?" Dr. Barlow fought the grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. "Count Volger, I am flattered."

Volger cast his eyes to the floor momentarily and cleared his throat, quickly recapturing the lady boffin's gaze.

"And to what do I owe this _pleasure_? The Count asked, narrowing his eyes at the last word.

Dr. Barlow crossed her arms behind her back and stepped further into the room, examining her surroundings. "Mr. Newkirk has brought you breakfast, Count Volger," As she walked, Newkirk was revealed in the doorway, struggling to fit both himself and the tray full of Volger's breakfast through the narrow opening. Tazza wriggled through Newkirk's legs and plodded happily over to the wildcount, thoroughly snuffling his shoes. "I came upon him en route to you and decided to join him." Dr. Barlow spun on her heel at the edge of the small prison, next to the Count's neatly made bed.

"How kind of you," Volger eyed his breakfast as Newkirk placed it on the desk. "Do you care to stay for coffee?" He glared at Newkirk a moment, then focused back on the lady boffin.

Dr. Barlow tilted her head and half-smiled. "A gracious offer, but I must decline. Come, Tazza." Tazza, who had settled himself on top of Volger's boots, whined in protest.

Volger frowned. "Pity. May I ask why Mr. Sharp did not deliver my breakfast this morning?"

Dr. Barlow's eyebrows rose teasingly. "Have you grown fond of your fencing pupil, Count Volger?" The wildcount's expression did not change. Dr. Barlow waved her hand. "Mr. Sharp is currently running an errand of mine." She looked at Newkirk, who was standing by the door, growing more fidgety every second. "Mr. Newkirk, thank you for bringing Count Volger's breakfast to him. You are dismissed."

"Thank you, Dr. Barlow," Newkirk rapidly spat out his words. "Would you like an escort to your quarters?"

"No, thank you, Mr. Newkirk. I fabricated the _Leviathan_. I believe I am able to navigate its treacherous expanse myself. However, should I require assistance, I will be sure to call on you."

Newkirk nodded. "Very well, Dr. Barlow. Count Volger." He bowed and exited hastily.

Dr. Barlow examined the maps on Volger's desk, waiting until Newkirk was out of hearing range to speak again. "Charting a course for Greece, are we?"

"That is just a distraction," Volger answered stiffly, glancing down at the contented Tazza lying on his feet.

Dr. Barlow moved closer to the door. "You can't fool me, Count Volger. And in any case, you're correct. There is no logic in keeping the truth from you if you are already aware of it." Dr. Barlow snapped her fingers and Tazza bolted up from his nap, freeing the wildcount.

"Quite," Volger met Dr. Barlow's sparkling gaze. "Tell me, Dr. Barlow, what do you make of Mr. Sharp?"

Dr. Barlow raised her eyebrows. "_Mr_. Sharp? I am quite certain I have never met the boy," Dr. Barlow turned to leave. "Enjoy your breakfast, Count."

Volger nodded tritely. "Good day, Doctor."

Dr. Barlow cast one last gleaming look at the count and left, Tazza at her heels.

Volger sat back down at the desk. However, instead of his maps, he pored over a piece of toast and began smothering it with butter. While he did so, he thought about the lady boffin and how she became more interesting each time they spoke.

Volger frowned as he bit into his toast.

A most interesting woman, indeed.


End file.
